Him or Me, Please Choose Him
by Daughters of Gondor
Summary: Slightly AU take on John's disappearance and Dean going to get Sam from Palo Alto. Be sure to read the author notes.


_**Disclaimer:** No own Supernatural._

_**A/N:**__ We originally had this posted under "Winchester Moments" but decided to do it more as a stand-alone simply because it only has a minor connection to that series._

_Also, we've given Dean a couple gifts of his own in this one...__gifts that come into play in other, chaptered stories that take place during the series or after, several of which we have in progress but are not nearly far enough into to post. So, ignore them if you choose or take them in the context that they were meant to be taken...Nobody is really aware of Dean's gifts beyond John and Mary, who don't even know what they are, just that they're there. Dean doesn't even know about them._

_Also, in regard to this story and John thinking the Demon is after __**both**__ his boys...we don't like the whole __**"special children"**__ storyline of the first two seasons so we ignore it in our stories and say the Demon wants __**Sam and Dean,**__ not the special children. The reasons for that may vary from story to story as we get more written and posted._

_Sorry if this offends or upsets anyone but that is a major AU factor that will be the same in any SPN story we write. Now since this has gotten long enough, we'll let you get on with the story. Enjoy._

_Changed the day of Sam's interview for law school from Monday to Thursday to fit with the actual days in Oct. 05_

_**Him or Me, Please Choose Him**_

_**California**_

_**October 2005**_

John ignored his phone as it vibrated in his hip pocket, knowing who it would be. Dean had been trying to reach him every half hour for the last three days but he simply couldn't handle hearing his son's voice right now. He'd made a decision three days earlier and it was final, nothing Dean said would change his mind.

He was getting closer to the thing that had killed Mary, he could feel it. But the longer he chased it, the closer he got, the more he slowly realized how much danger he was putting his son…both of his sons…in. This thing, whatever it was, wanted his sons. It wanted them for their gifts, bound and hidden when Dean was barely five and Sammy was merely a baby, to use them for it's own purposes.

And it was leading John along by his nose, using his need for vengeance to get within grabbing distance of his sons.

Originally he'd thought it only wanted Sam since it had been in the nursery all those years ago. It had focused on the younger brother, not yet sensing the power in the elder, because Sammy had shone so brightly. Dean's burn was deeper, darker…not as noticeable. John, himself, hadn't even known about his elder son's gifts until Mary had drawn his attention to them shortly after Sam's birth, as if his baby brother's proximity had somehow drawn them to the surface.

Falling back on the instincts he'd gained in years of hunting with his father before he'd left to join the Marines, John had known his boys would be hunted by evil. He and Mary had debated long and hard whether they should bind their sons' gifts to protect them, at least temporarily. They could always unbind them at a later date when Sam and Dean were ready for such power. Mary, herself, had been somewhat gifted, though not nearly as powerfully as she'd sensed in her sons, and she'd known how others, natural and supernatural, reacted to those who were _'different'_. She hadn't wanted that life for her babies.

They'd hesitated, of course, not sure it was fair to take those gifts away from their sons by having them bound. But the knowledge that it was only temporary, and the hunter instinct that told John Mary's fears had merit, had made their decision. To protect their sons, they'd researched, and found a well-known binding charm.

Yet, they'd been shocked to learn afterward, when Mary had still been able to sense Sammy's power, that even bound Sam's gifts were still projecting to any who knew where to look or had the ability to sense them. That fact had later been proven to John when Missouri had approached him about Sammy that first Christmas Eve after Mary had been killed. Sammy was still in danger.

Believing that, though he'd feared for Sammy's safety away from him and Dean, John had actually rejoiced when Sam left for college, removing himself from harm's way, even as he'd made Sam believe otherwise, telling him if he left he was to stay gone. He knew his youngest well, the one thing that would make Sam more determined to leave was if he believed it would piss off John.

No, he hadn't wanted Sammy to go, had feared the unknown dangers, but he'd known it was for the best. If Sam was away from the hunting the demon couldn't get him, he'd be safe. So he'd pushed Sammy away.

He'd done it to protect Sam, but he'd unknowingly put Dean in danger.

It was a double-edged blade that bit deep. He'd protected Sammy, yes, but it had focused the demon's attention on Dean. In essence, he'd traded one son's safety for the other's.

Sammy burned so brightly that whatever fire burned inside Dean had been drown out, harder to see. Those with the ability to see had been drawn to Sam's gifts, while Dean's had remained hidden. With Sammy out of the picture, Dean burned too brightly to not be noticed so the demon saw him clearly…and it wanted him.

Dean had become the hunted.

Day by day John watched Dean flounder without his brother, clearly not a solitary hunter. He and Sam were a team, stronger together. Not unbeatable, but damn near. Apart they were weakened.

Before John's eyes Dean was getting worn down by the hunt, though he tried not to show it. Without Sam, his reasons for hunting seemed to be getting harder for him to see. He was getting more careless, as if losing Sammy had made hunting less important.

Something inside Dean had broken when Sam left, and even now, four years later, it was still broken. It worried John, because he knew whatever that broken part was, it would remain so until Sam returned, and Sam was just stubborn enough to stay gone forever…unless something happened to give him a reason to come back. Only then would Dean be whole again. In the meantime, he depended on John to fill Sammy's place.

It was then John began to realize that his sons were safer when they were together. Whatever gifts they had, they fed off each other. They had a bond that John couldn't understand, had never had with either of them…had never had a chance to develop.

As he watched Dean's light begin to wan John had made a decision…Sammy had to return before Dean's carelessness got him killed. And for that to happen, John had to be out of the picture, leaving Dean no choice but to go after Sam.

Again his phone vibrated against his hip and John bit back a sad smile. Barely 15 minutes had passed since the last call, Dean was getting desperate. He didn't understand, and Dean didn't like being left in the dark. The most recent moody, cursing message John had received told him that.

John understood, of course, so he let Dean's messages go even though they were becoming unusually hostile. Dean was reacting to the fact that John had left with only a note, _'Went hunting. Don't follow.'_

To protect his sons, John had to leave, and he was going to stick to his decision.

Initially, he'd intended to call and check in, let Dean know he was okay. He just needed to be away from his son to protect him, that didn't mean he couldn't talk to him on the phone while there were a safe number of miles between them. It was only after the fact, when he'd been about to dial Dean's number after listening to the first pleading message, that he couldn't call.

Dean was smart. If John called him Dean would find a way to track him down and the whole plan would be shot to shit in a barrel. He would never go after Sammy, and he would eventually make a mistake on a hunt and get himself killed. For the plan to work John had to disappear completely from his sons' lives…no matter the pain it would cause him to do so.

Reaching into his pocket John pulled out his cell phone and turned it off, "Sorry, Dean. It's for your own good, buddy."

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Dean snapped his phone closed and just barely resisted throwing it against the nearest wall. Only the knowledge that he'd end up shelling out the $100, or more, to replace it stopped him.

At this point, if he ever saw his father again he was more likely to kill him than welcome him back. The bastard refused to answer his phone after leaving with barely an explanation, ordering him not to follow. It pissed Dean off, to no end. He was sick of getting abandoned by those he counted on.

First Mom, though, now that he was an adult he knew she'd had no choice in the matter, but at four he hadn't understood why Mommy had left him without saying goodbye and promising to return like she usually had. Yet even now he still had issues with that loss that he buried deep and ignored. Then Sammy had gone away to college, though Dean had to admit that deep down he was glad his baby brother had followed his dreams and gotten the normal life he wanted, the life Dean couldn't claim. Finally, Dad had abandoned him for reasons unknown.

Damn it, Dean wanted at least one thing in life he could count on to stick by him…and not just his car!

Coming to a decision Dean slipped his phone in his pocket and crossed to his duffle bag. Instead of rolling everything nicely he simply thrust his things in and roughly zipped it closed before grabbing his jacket, picking up the bag, and stalking out to his car. He was going to find his father, kick his ass for leaving, then they were going to continue the hunt for that thing that had killed Mom.

It was how things were meant to be, minus Sammy of course. Dean found himself wondering, though he would never admit it, even to himself, if, just maybe, Sam's place was at college instead of embroiled in the danger of the seemingly endless hunt for their mother's murderer.

With that in mind he promised himself that, no matter how long it took him to find his father, he wouldn't go to Stanford. He wouldn't drag Sammy away from college and the girl who loved him. At least one of them deserved to find the love John had found with Mary before she died…and it obviously wasn't going to be Dean given that his only chance at finding it had been thrown back in his face.

Slamming the hotel door behind him Dean stalked toward the Impala ignoring the few people who scrambled out of his way as they saw his dark expression. John Winchester was in big trouble when Dean found him. Of that there was no doubt.

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_**Late October**_

"_Dean, something's starting to happen; I think it's serious. I need to figure out what's going on. It might be what we've been looking for. Be very careful, Dean; we're all in danger."_

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_**Palo Alto**_

The Impala idled quietly at the curb in front of the apartment building as Dean sat in the driver's seat doing his best to talk himself out of getting out and breaking into the apartment his little brother was currently asleep in. It had been a month since John had disappeared, a week since he'd left that cryptic message, and Dean had given into his need to come get Sam. He just couldn't...or wouldn't...find their father without his brother.

He hadn't even seen Sam in nearly two years, save for that...incident with the nail polish six months earlier. The thought of his car covered in pale pink still had the power to make Dean shudder.

After that they'd spoken on the phone a couple times, but that was it. No long talks. No requests or offers of help on either side. No mention of anything even remotely related to hunting. Dean had learned his lesson regarding asking Sam for help two years earlier, and he'd vowed to never ask again.

So what was he doing now? Idiot that he was, he was sitting in his car outside Sam's apartment building telling himself to drive away and leave Sammy to his apple pie, picket fence, dog in the backyard life. All the while he knew he was going to get out and break into the apartment.

Shaking his head at his own apparent lack of balls he shut off the Impala and got out. He wasn't leaving Stanford without Sam, he couldn't. He missed his brother and would use any means necessary to get the youngest Winchester back at his side.

Moaning at the sappy thought Dean found himself trying to convince himself he was just imagining the extra room he thought he suddenly felt in his jeans. Just to be sure he checked himself, sighing in relief when he found everything was still all there. One couldn't be too safe, after all. Next thing he knew he'd be spiffed up in a pretty floral dress, braiding daisies into Sammy's girl's hair, and doing the whole make-over thing girls did at all their sleepovers.

How he came about the knowledge that girls actually _did_ have sleepovers and gave each other make-overs was a memory he didn't really care to have.

Reverend McCauley had never liked him to begin with. Upon catching Dean in his daughter's room while she'd had a couple female friends over for the night, all of which who had been gleefully hanging on him, his dislike for the middle Winchester had skyrocketed. Dean had quickly been elevated to the same shelf as the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, or whatever the hell other names the reverend had screamed after him as he scrambled out the window of Jillie McCauley's bedroom and down the nearby tree, half dressed and just a touch drunk.

Dean stopped by the apartment building, just below the window he knew was Sam's, once again trying to convince himself to turn around, get back in his car, and drive away. If he had a back bone he'd be driving away into the sunset like a normal hero instead of planning the best way of breaking in to drag Sam away from the happy life he'd fought so hard to claim.

Well...there was currently no sunset considering it was nearing midnight, but driving off into the moonlight sounded sappy, and all girly, chick flicky. That was not something Dean Winchester would ever consent to being. He was a hunter, no girly, chickiness in him, no siree.

And he was losing his freakin' mind if these were the thoughts that filled his head while he was in the process of a break-n'-enter job. He was seriously in need of a night spent at some hard-core biker bar with a bottle of cheap whiskey and a sexy waitress willing to assist him in reasserting his waning manhood. Maybe even two sexy waitresses. He really needed a manliness boost.

A dirty grin curved Dean's lips as he climbed up a nearby tree, his thoughts once again straying back to Jillie McCauley and the fun he'd had with her many a night while her daddy slept unawares down the hall. Damn, that girl had been skilled.

And that mouth...whoo...

A sharp curse escaped Dean as he pulled himself up the tree so he was level with Sam's living room window. This had seemed so much easier when he was 15.

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Sam was instantly alert when he heard the slight squeak of the window in the living room moments before something hit the floor with a dull thud. Silently getting out of bed he spared a moment to make sure Jess was still asleep. He didn't want her stumbling into the middle of a fight between him and whoever was breaking into the apartment.

In the back of his mind he acknowledged the small tingle where that strange bond he had with Dean told him his brother was near. He ignored it, though, Jess' safety taking the forefront of his thoughts at the moment. Besides, he'd gotten so used to sensing Dean close by in the last four years, checking up on him, that he simply took it in stride and moved on.

Falling back on years of training that had never really left him, Sam moved stealthily through the dark apartment, seeing the burglar's silhouette crossing the living room. Without thought he rushed forward, tackling the man. The fight was quick, and Sam grunted as his back hit the floor and he found himself staring up at a familiar grinning face as a beam of moonlight streamed through the open window, illuminating his opponent's face.

"Easy, tiger."

"Dean?!" Sam gasped, one hand wrapped tightly around the wrist of the hand Dean had fisted in Sam's shirt, "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." Dean taunted good-naturedly.

In response Sam shifted, hooking his leg around his brother and shifting their positions expertly, enjoying the solid thud of Dean's body hitting the hard floor, as well as the slight grunt of pain issued by the older man, followed by a low groan.

"Or not." Dean chuckled, "Get off me."

"What are you doing here, Dean?" Sam asked as he disentangled himself from his brother and got to his feet, helping Dean up in the process.

The elder Winchester made a show of brushing himself off, "Well, I _was_ lookin' for a beer."

Before Sam could do anything more than roll his eyes Jess' soft voice calling his name preceded the lights flipping on and blinding everyone within reach. Both Sam and Dean looked over, freezing as if they'd been caught raiding the cookie jar.

A slow grin spread across Dean's lips as he gave Jess a flirty once over. She was even sexier up close, especially in those small sleep shorts and that teasing smurf shirt...

Sam motioned to the girl, "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

"Wait," Jess said, pointing, "Your brother Dean?"

Dean could almost hear the 'unfortunately' teasing Sam's thoughts and brushed it off, as the joking, sarcasm it was meant to be...had it been spoken, anyway...and nodded to Jess.

"I love the smurfs," he drawled as he stepped forward, hearing, and ignoring, Sam's quiet scoff behind him. He tilted his head in that way that got him phone numbers and invites from every girl he set his sights on, "I must say, you are com_pletely_ out of my brother's league."

Jess gave a little eye-roll as she smiled at Sam over Dean's shoulder, clearly thinking, _'So this is Dean. You were right, Sam. He is a hopeless flirt.'_

Seeing that his flirting was really getting him no where, not that he'd seriously thought to take his brother's girl, Dean gave a small sigh and walked back to Sam, grabbing the younger man's shoulder, "Well, if you don't mind, I need to borrow your boyfriend for a while…family business."

There was a pause as Jess met Sam's gaze questioningly, which Dean found just the slightest bit annoying, given the situation and his reason for being there, but he let it pass expecting Sam to nod, or whatever, for her to leave.

The younger Winchester moved over to stand beside Jessica, his arm around her waist, "No. Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Jess."

Dean blinked, momentarily shocked. No? What part of _'family business'_ did Sam not understand?

Unless Jessica knew about what the Winchesters did for a living…

Giving a small shrug, as if to say _'alright, your wanted it this way'_, Dean met Sam's gaze, "Dad's missing."

Sam gave a small careless shrug, irritating Dean, "So he's working overtime on a miller time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

The elder Winchester gave a slight, cocky smirk, knowing exactly how to shoot that careless attitude down, "Dad's on a hunting trip…and he hasn't been home in a while."

That gave Sam pause as he tensed, his arm falling away from Jess' waist, "Jess, could you excuse us please."

It was more of an order than the request it was phrased as, and Jess took it as it was meant to be taken with good grace as she nodded to Dean, "It was nice meeting you, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean responded with a grin, "You too, Jessica."

Once Jess was out of earshot Dean turned his attention back to his brother and sighed, "So, go get dressed and pack a few things. We gotta go."

A small, shocked scoff escaped Sam, "Dean, you can't just break in here, in the middle of the night after two years, and order me to go with you."

"Dad's missing, Sam." Dean hissed, "He could be dead for all we know."

"And he could just be running late." Sam argued, "Ghosts and demons don't exactly work on any particular schedule, Dean."

A moment passed as Dean regarded Sam in slight disbelief, before shaking his head and heading for the door of the apartment, throwing over his shoulder, "Get a move on, Sammy. The longer we wait the colder Dad's trail is getting."

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By the time Sam had pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes and caught up to Dean the elder Winchester was halfway down the steps leading out of the apartment building. He scowled at the back of his brother's head.

"So, are you coming or not?" Dean asked, forestalling whatever Sam was about to say.

"I'm not." Sam replied.

Pausing mid-step Dean met Sam's gaze, "Why not?"

"Dean, when I left, I swore I was done hunting. The way we grew up was…"

"C'mon, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Dean drawled, cutting Sam off as he continued down the steps.

"Yeah?" Sam sighed, "When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he handed me a .45."

Reaching the bottom of the steps Dean stopped and faced Sam again, "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine years old," Sam replied exasperated, "He was supposed to say 'don't be afraid of the dark'."

"Don't be afraid of the dark'?" Dean asked sharply, "Are you kidding me?! Of course you should be afraid of the dark; you know what's out there."

"It's not normal, Dean. " Sam argued, "A normal father doesn't drag two small boys on a lifelong hunt for vengeance…"

"He did the best he could with what he had to work with, Sam." Dean interrupted again, his tone clearly implying the discussion was over.

"Do you really think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asked, not ready to let it go.

He knew it was a mistake to mention their mother the moment Dean's gaze cooled by a couple degrees and he spun on his heel and walked out. Left with no choice, Sam followed, running a hand roughly through his hair.

"We were raised like warriors, Dean!" Sam sighed sharply, "With the training, and melting the silver into bullets…"

"So, what?" Dean threw back over his shoulder as he headed for the Impala, "You think running away for a normal life…"

"Not normal…safe." Sam interrupted, "And I didn't run away, I went to college. It was Dad who told me to never come back."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in trouble now," Dean started, "He needs us. I can feel it."

Sam sighed, "I can't…I'm not a hunter like you and Dad, Dean."

Shaking his head Dean glanced Sam's way as he reached the back of the car, "You'll always be part of this, Sammy. We're Winchesters, normal isn't for us."

Catching up to his brother for the second time just as Dean opened the trunk Sam opened his mouth to respond only to be cut off by Dean throwing him a pleading look, "I need your help, Sam. I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can." Sam replied softly.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to." Dean mumbled keeping his gaze down as he dug through the weapons and other hunting odds n' ends in the trunk.

Again Sam sighed, feeling his heart constrict, knowing he was going to give in, but not ready to capitulate just yet, "What was he hunting?"

While Dean explained the hunt John had left on Sam only listen with half his attention as he watched Dean pick up a tape recorder as he finished listing off the string of disappearances. Facing Sam Dean held up the tape recorder as if it held some hint.

"So anyway, I got this call from Dad a week ago…"

The recording was rough with static and hard to hear, but John's voice was just clear enough to make out his words. Sam listened with every instinct gained in 18 years of living the hunt. He met Dean's gaze as the elder turned off the recorder at the end of the message.

"You know there's EVP on that?"

Dean grinned proudly at him, "Not bad, Sammy. It's like riding a bike isn't it."

Sam gave a little nod as Dean continued, "Alright, so I slowed the message down and ran it through a Gold Wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

Over the tape recorder Sam heard a woman's low voice whisper, _"I can never go home."_

He cocked a brow, wordlessly asking Dean if he had any ideas. Dean merely dropped the tape recorder back into the trunk, deflecting the unspoken question by saying, "You know, in two years, I never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." He paused, then, "And you owe me for the whole nail polish on the car thing."

Smiling in spite of the grave situation, knowing that was Dean's intent, Sam sighed, "Alright, I'll go. But I gotta be back first thing Thursday."

"What's first thing Thursday?" Dean asked, not liking the idea.

"I have this…" Sam started, before sighing, "I have an interview."

"Like a job interview?" Dean drawled, shrugging, "Skip it."

"It's a law school interview," Sam scoffed, "And it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school." Dean half sneered, before meeting Sam's stubborn gaze with a sigh, "Alright, fine. Back by Thursday."

Sam nodded, "Alright. Just let me go pack some stuff and tell Jess where I'm going."

Giving his own nod Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala and leaned against it, watching Sam walk back toward the building. He wanted longer than two days, but if that was all Sammy was willing to give, he'd take it. It was a start, after all. Maybe he'd be more willing next time then.

And just maybe he could use the next two days to convince Sammy to skip his interview and come back 'home' where he belonged. It was worth a shot.

_**END**_


End file.
